


Hot for Tutor

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Established Relationship, Frotting, M/M, Nerd/Bad Boy Roleplay, PWP, Roleplay, Rutting, Silly, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 18:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18212048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: “I wanna roleplay!” Shane’s hands fist in his jeans and he looks wildly at Ryan. His eyes are wide and his skin is bright pink and he’s breathing heavy. “I wanna roleplay that. The high school thing.”





	Hot for Tutor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going thru my BFU wips at this point and seeing what I can finish!! this is an old thing I've had kicking around for a while, and it was inspired either by an episode of the show or maybe one of the PMs?? but I can't remember which! 
> 
> big thanks to hannah for a speedy beta so I can keep my fic-a-day streak going <3
> 
> enjoy!

“So,” Shane starts.

Ryan looks up. “So.”

“About earlier…” Shane trails off, but never looks up from his phone.

“Earlier… today?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan squints. “What about it?” There’s a lot encompassed by ‘earlier today,’ given that it’s nearly eight at night now. They’ve had a long day, what with putting final touches on the Post Mortem and getting it posted, planning out other videos, gorging themselves on Chipotle.

Shane sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Uh, the whole… high school thing.”

Ryan blinks. “What?”

“Y’know.” Shane finally locks his phone and sets it aside. He wrings his hands in his lap and won’t look at Ryan. “Me being the teacher’s pet.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you being the… bad boy, or whatever.”

Ryan nods. “Yeah…?”

Shane groans. “You’re—seriously—you don’t—?”

“Shane, just spit it out!”

“I wanna roleplay!” Shane’s hands fist in his jeans and he looks wildly at Ryan. His eyes are wide and his skin is bright pink and he’s breathing heavy. “I wanna roleplay that. The high school thing.”

Ryan swallows. “Oh.” He nods. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Shane whines and leans back on the couch, hiding his face in his hands. “Cuz it’s embarrassing.”

Ryan smirks. “I don’t think it’s… embarrassing. Not necessarily.” He inches closer on the couch until he can touch Shane. He cups his cheek and thumbs over the stubble. “So, what, you wanna be the nerd and I’m the bad boy who corrupts you? Gets you to skip out on mathletes and robotics club in favor of necking behind the bleachers?”

Shane shudders. “Uh, yeah. That sounds… good. That’s good.”

Ryan bites down on a grin. “Yeah? I think I have a leather jacket in my closet, somewhere.”

Shane’s breathing picks up. “I’ll wear my glasses with the thickest frames.”

Ryan hides his snicker against Shane’s shoulder. “So, what…” He hums. “Maybe I’m failing a class, and I ask you to help me? Some nice, sexy, tutoring action?”

Shane laughs now, too. “Sure, that works. You come by apartment—I mean, my parents aren’t home of course. We have to sit on the couch, or leave my bedroom door open.”

Ryan’s eyes shut tight as he wheezes. “Oh my god. Are you gonna take off an item of clothing for every question I get right?”

“This isn’t _Billy Madison_ , Ryan, god.” Shane curls closer to him, the motion at once comforting and warming. “But… yeah, maybe.”

Ryan smirks against Shane’s neck. “When do we do it?”

Shane leans back slightly. “Wait, really?”

“I didn’t come up with a whole hypothetical scenario just for you to ask _wait really_.” Ryan kisses the corner of Shane’s slightly gaping mouth. “It sounds like fun.”

Shane leans back further and blinks wildly at him. “You’re serious?”

“Jesus Christ, Shane, _yes._ ” Ryan sits up straighter and swings a leg over Shane to settle in his lap. He cups Shane’s face with both hands and forces his boyfriend to look him straight in the eyes. “Listen to me, you big lug.”

Shane nods.

“You wanna dress up like some poindexter? Want me to be your Danny Zuko? I’ll do it.” Ryan accents his declaration with a soft and gentle kiss to Shane’s lips. “You can tutor me in, fuck, algebra or something?”

“History,” Shane says in a rush.

“History, sure, whatever. You can tutor me in history, and I’ll drive you up a fucking wall by teasing you the whole study session. I’ll make you come in your pants like the little virgin nerd you are.”

Shane’s panting like a dog now, and Ryan kisses him again. He drinks in the desperate, heavy breathing and offers up a moan of his own.

“I’ll do all that,” Ryan murmurs. His hands slide into Shane’s hair and _tug_. “For you.”

Shane whines. “I love you so much.” He takes Ryan by the hips and rolls them over. “I need to fuck you, right now.”

Ryan arches his back off the couch and untangles a hand from Shane’s hair to reach between them. He undoes the knot of his sweatpants and shoves them haphazardly down his thighs. “Do it, babe, c’mon.”

Shane groans and everything is a blur after that.

 

 

Ryan plucks at the leather collar that’s sticking to his neck. The jacket is heavy on him, unseasonable, but it definitely completes the look. He had gone back and forth for a while on whether he wanted to approach the more fratboy look versus the more traditional ‘bad boy’ style—and had gone with the latter. He promised Shane Danny Zuko, and Ryan’s determined to deliver.

He sighs and tries to put on his best aura of nonchalance and apathy; he lets his messenger bag thud to the ground at his feet, and raises a slightly shaking hand to knock. He raps his knuckles against the wood three times and waits.

Shane opens the door slowly, and _god_ , he really did find the thickest frames possible. The glasses are absurdly, comically square, and black, and overwhelm his already enormous face. They have lenses but Ryan would bet his entire bank account that they aren’t prescription; there’s just no way Shane managed to get a pair in time.

Even so, he looks good. He’s wearing a plaid shirt like usual, although it’s buttoned-up completely and topped with a white bowtie. His chinos are khaki brown and expose his fine ankles. He’s not wearing shoes.

Ryan makes a show of looking him up and down before smirking. “Gonna let me in, Madej? I don’t have time to stand around.”

Shane looks startled. He blinks at Ryan for a few seconds then nods frantically. “Sorry, yeah.” He steps back and lets Ryan in. “Did you find the place okay?” Shane asks, voice quivering with his nerves.

Ryan almost breaks character, almost asks if this is okay. But when he turns to speak, he watches a blush spread across Shane’s cheeks and that’s all the answer he needs. “Yeah, it was fine,” he says dismissively. “Where we doing this?”

“Uh, couch is good. Want some water?”

“Sure.” Ryan trudges over to the couch and tosses his bag at one end, falls onto the cushion beside it. Immediately, he kicks his feet up, clad in his ghoul-hunting boots, onto the coffee table in front of the couch. He pillows his arms behind his head, and watches the doorway to the kitchen.

Shane returns quickly with two glasses of water and sets them on coasters just shy of Ryan’s feet. “Feet off the table, please,” Shane says.

Ryan raises an eyebrow. He holds the incredulous yet bored expression as he lifts his legs and plants his feet flat on the ground.

“Did you bring your, uh, your textbook?”

“Nope,” Ryan replies.

Shane rolls his eyes, and it’s the most normal part so far. “We can use mine.”

Ryan shrugs and leans back into the couch. Shane leaves the room for a moment and heads in the direction that Ryan knows will lead to his bedroom. There’s some muffled rustling, a faint ‘a-ha!’, and then Shane is coming back. Ryan maintains an air of unaffectedness as Shane sits beside him on the couch—nearly a full cushion between them—and cracks the textbook open to a dog-eared page.

“So we left off on chapter fourteen at school,” Shane says as he reads through a few pages. “Did you have somewhere specific you wanted to start?” When Shane looks up, his eyes are shining and his expression is bright and earnest.

Ryan hiccups and covers it up with a scoff. “Don’t know, don’t care.” He shrugs. “I just need to pass, is all.”

Shane frowns briefly. “We can just start at the beginning of the chapter, I guess.” He thumbs at a page. Idly, Ryan wonders where he got the textbook; is it one he’s just kept since his college days? Or did he buy it off Amazon? It looks awfully well-worn to be new. “Did you at least bring a notebook and pens?”

Ryan smirks. “Of course. I’m not stupid.” He turns and digs around in his bag. He tosses a threadbare spiral bound notebook onto the coffee table along with a pencil about three inches long.

“That’s—that’s not a lot of paper, for notes.”

“So? You have stuff I can use, don’t you?”

Shane’s cheeks pinks again. “I guess,” he mumbles. “Okay, let’s get started…”

Ryan reaches for his water as Shane starts a recap of the chapter. It sounds thorough and detailed, and Ryan is pretty sure Shane actually read the fucking thing so he could do this. It’s kind of cute. Ryan chugs half the glass then pulls his notebook, with precisely two pages of paper left in it, into his lap. He twirls the little pencil between his fingers as Shane moves on to the first section of the chapter, something about some war or resources or…

Ryan’s not really listening. That was never part of the agreement, anyway. If he wanted a history lesson, he would’ve gotten Shane to film another episode of Ruining History. Ryan chews at the end of the pencil and simply stares at Shane. It’s not like Shane notices, since he seems pretty enthralled with the book.

Shane looks good. Adorable, even. Ryan wants to wreck him, which bodes well for tonight.

“Are you even listening to me?” Shane asks, exasperated.

“No,” Ryan says.

Shane groans. “Why did you even want me to tutor you if you weren’t gonna listen?”

“Maybe I just wanted to get into your pants,” Ryan replies nonchalantly. “They’re some cute pants, after all.” Ryan looks Shane up and down again, lecherously clear in his intent, and when he reaches Shane’s face again, he’s gratified to see that Shane’s entire face is cherry red.

“What—you— _what_?”

Ryan licks his lips. “You’re cute, Madej.”

“I don’t understand—?”

“C’mon, use that big ol’ brain of yours,” Ryan taunts. “It’s not rocket science.”

Shane’s lips twitch and he almost breaks into a grin. He schools himself quickly, and his bashfulness returns. “You’re kidding me,” Shane says, flat with disbelief.

“Am I?” Ryan inches closer on the couch. He twists to face Shane, and brings a leg onto the couch. It’s not an especially comfortable position, but it leaves his legs, encased in tight black denim, spread. His cock is half-hard, and the skinny jeans do nothing to hide it.

Shane splutters. “You _are_ , you _have_ to be.” His glasses are slipping down his nose and Shane scrambles to push them back up. “Why would you—I mean, I’m just—?”

Ryan smirks. “Good thing I didn’t ask you to tutor me in English, huh?”

Shane gulps.

Ryan almost can’t bite back his amusement. He’s seldom seen Shane _speechless_. Utterly and genuinely speechless. It’s a good look on him, if unsettling. Ryan wants to kiss the stricken look off his face but, funny enough, he doesn’t think it would help matters.

“You good?” Ryan asks in a rough voice; he’s still half-playing the part, but he’s also genuinely checking in with Shane.

Shane nods. “I’ve just,” he starts, voice small. “I’ve never done this before.”

The words, coy and artfully hesitant, hit Ryan like a punch to the gut. Sure, he’d made a joke about it when they were planning this, but he hadn’t really expected Shane to run with it. He’s shaking as he reaches for Shane and guides him onto his back on the couch, slotting between his thighs. The khaki pants leave nothing to the imagination and Ryan lets himself stare, mesmerized.

Eventually, he thinks to reply. “I’ll be gentle.”

Shane shudders underneath him and jerks his hips up. “Okay,” he breathes. “Kiss me?”

Ryan practically crashes forward to kiss Shane. It’s familiar and warm, even if the thicker framed glasses are making it hard to press quite as close as Ryan wants. He presses his whole body to Shane’s and grinds his hips between his thighs. Shane lets out a choked off moan into the kiss as the heat of their cocks, encasing in their pants, glides together. The kiss breaks as they both pull back to moan.

Shane throws his head back with enough force that his thick-framed glasses go flying off his face. Ryan buries his face against Shane’s neck at the same time Shane says, “My glasses!” Which only makes Ryan snicker more.

He trades his laughter for biting down on Shane’s neck, hard enough to distract him from his fucking glasses. Ryan sucks at the skin until Shane is squirming underneath him, rutting up for friction like a desperate teenager.

“Wanna fuck you,” Ryan groans as he finally lets up on abusing Shane’s neck.

Shane whimpers. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” he moans quietly, bringing a hand to cup Ryan’s cheek. “What kind of guy do you take me for?”

Ryan doesn’t bother hiding his laugh this time. “One who wants to get dicked down,” he says, but he makes no move to undress himself or Shane. “But this is good too.” He flexes his hands on Shane’s hips and pulls him to meet his thrusts.

Whatever response Shane might have had planned is lost in a groan as he lets Ryan drag him into every thrust. Ryan’s head is already foggy with his mounting orgasm; he hasn’t gotten off like this since he was younger, dumber, drunk and unable to get his pants off. It’s a heady feeling of nostalgia mingling with the lust, topped off with Shane’s flushed face staring up at him, glassy-eyed and awed.

“Next time,” Ryan grits out, angling his thrusts so that every movement has their cocks pressed together. “Next time, poindexter, I’m going to bend you over your stupid desk and fuck you senseless.”

Shane hiccups on a gasp and his body goes tense in Ryan’s arms. “Fuck, Ryan, _fuck_!” He throws his head back again, wincing when he hits the arm of the couch. His body shakes with the force of his orgasm and Ryan follows him quickly, without thought, letting the pleasure just run through him. He jerks his hips against Shane as they ride out their orgasms, until they’re both wincing from oversensitivity.

Ryan sits back, but doesn’t go far. He grins down at Shane. “Well?”

“You’re still gonna fail history,” Shane says. “But I think you get an A for effort.”

Ryan can’t help it. “I think _you_ get a D.”

Shane groans. “I hate you _so much_.”

Ryan collapses against Shane in laughter.


End file.
